Definitely Hacks
by diamondpen4201
Summary: Four teens get Sword Art Online on the day of release, start a guild, adventures ensue. In this ruthless parody of the source material AND the author of this fanfiction, we'll see commentary on SAO's controversial cult status, Google Translate and more, with odd references to A Clockwork Orange in there too I don't know I'm tired right now.
1. Chapter 1

**From the author of the later deleted story "Healing Crystals" from , comes a brand new Sword Art Online fic - because, I suppose, old habits die hard. Also, there's this thing called "Wattpad", so I guess I'm cross-platforming now. Coolio.**

1

"So, what's it going to be then, eh?"

There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is James, Kevin and Dense, Dense being really dense, and we stood in the local video game retailer making up our minds what to do with our well saved cutter, about twelve-hundred to each of our carmans. There was the Nerve Gear, four of them that so luckily not sold out, as well as the solitary release title, that is a full-dive virtual reality game known as Sword Art Online, supposedly a real horrorshow role-playing viddygame that's all in the gulliver, head that is. Truly a horrorshow milestone for science, that being slang for good, or so I was trying to make it.

"So, what's it going to be then, eh?"

We were dressed in the heighth of nadsat fashion - well, our school uniforms, so confesses Your Humble Narrator - that being a white polo shirt, made with odd malenky holes to keep us all like breezy in the summer, and some black football shorts, or full-length track runner deals, which I always opted for, O my brothers. We stood counting our pretty-polly, as though we hadn't many a time earlier, and we all had enough for a Nerve Gear and game apiece.

"So, what's it gonna be then, eh?"

That's what the little malchick was saying unto us, though I may note he was a few sunloops above us in terms of age. This is what he kept repeating to us, until we eventually took our soon-to-be-purchased items off the shelves, and allowed the young veck to scan our items. "You were standing in place an awfully long time," he continued as he scanned. "You were all looking at the one thing, not saying anything. Is the box itself so enrapturing?" He seemed a malenky bit confused.

"Well, O brother thou," I began "we required some time to make up our rassoodocks as to how to spend all of this deng," I placed our pooled cutter, money if you didn't catch it, in a pile on the counter.

Kevin shot me the dirtiest of looks as I exchanged with this quaint rabbiter. "Alright, Alex!" he suddenly creeched all razdraz, angry that is. "We get it! We've all read A Clockwork Orange for school."

"Actually," Dense intervened quietly "I only watched the film-"

"In any case," Kev continued just as vicious and biting "the whole speaking in nadsat slang thing gets old _really_ fast, not even to mention how you use it to speak to just anyone."

"It's bad enough that your name's Alex, fulfilling that part of your odd fantasy," James continued in seemingly a calmer version of the same tone. "Besides, this is the _largest_ , not to mention the _only_ new release of the month," which was true, all other companies postponed their releases, knowing they wouldn't stand a chance against Nerve Gear. "Of course we'd be here to buy it _on the day it's released_ ," he muttered, slapping the back of my head. "I wanted to get this over with earlier, but I knew if I interrupted you in character, it would just get you going."

The transaction was concluded, as accentuated by all the bagged merchandise, and the noticably irate clerk leaning on the counter. "I wish you had, mate," he added, adressing James. "You were standing there for _twenty five minutes_."

"What of it?" I asked, grabbing the bags and handing them out to my friends. "Should one not mind thy own business?"

The clerk was in no mood for this, so it would seem. "We closed _twenty_ minutes ago."

This was jarring information for me, as it could be seen on my face. Kev tapped my shoulder, saying "and _fifteen_ ago was when we were supposed to meet my Mum in the carpark."

Now I was panicked. "Out out out out!" I yelped like a dog, shooing the others ahead of me.

We had a long evening of games ahead of us.

After skimming through the instruction manual, I figured the Nerve Gear, a helmet-like contraption that looked like it could protect from brain damage, was something to be plugged into the wall, but could run on internal battery life, but I wasn't entirely sure. It seemed as though whoever designed that device purposefully made it vague as to how it works, and the wiki gave me nothing to work with, so I just plugged it into the wall and hoped that was how it works. Luckily it was, because the Divine Creator said so, and couldn't bother to find canonical evidence to prove otherwise. As well as this, there were some leads that ran directly into the wi-fi router. "Now that," I muttered to myself as I discovered this, "is some early oughts shit." But I considered it a small step back in exchange for a giant bound forward.

Enough of this set-up crap, I thought once I was done, and I just jumped myself in bed, putting the Nerve Gear over my head, when I heard it.

"Alex, dinner!" It was my mother, serving as an odd stall in pacing, just as she was serving spaghetti, my favourite. I had decided I would be right back.

"Right right right, then." I murmured as I leaped back onto the bed, sliding the Nerve Gear on, and without a second thought I said the thing. "Link Start."

Whiteness, a flurry of digital lights of all colours. After logging into the Nerve Gear account I had to register for online _prior_ to booting up the game, which always grinded my gears, I could fill out my character details.

Name; well, Alex is cool and all, but not so great as Alexander. There's my name. Age; seventeen, but who the hell cares? I'll just put some random age, sixty-nine ought to do it. I had a good laugh at this, I being mature in body and mind, child at heart. O my brothers and sisters, thank me for sparing you the details, for character customisation was very focal.

Then suddenly, as if I had blinked, my eyes adjusted to the gate of what was to be my future for a while. Outside, I saw none other than James and Kevin, sporting the nicknames they said they would for association, that being Fuego and Harbinger respectively. Right away, Fuego or James piped up "Nice nickname, truly fresh and imaginative," he waved to me invitingly, as this mockery was all in jest.

"Shut it, thou," I reply, just as proudly jesting.

Their faces turned to stone. "Seriously, Alex," warned Harbinger or Kevin, "cool it with the nadsat."

I sighed, with an exhausted "fine. Where's Dense?"

"I'm right here," said another figure next to them, sporting not the name Dense as I would've imagined, but Brickman. "And please stop calling me Dense. I have an IQ of 88, that's only like six points below national average, prick."

This was truly a surprise for me, having not heard Dense be serious, so I considered it another joke, perhaps prepared by the other droogs. "Did you string those words together by yourself, big guy?"

Dense leered. "Alex, fuck off or I'll kill you myself." He seemed deadly serious with these words, but alas, this was a game, no more, no less. I would gladly oblige.

"Whenever you're ready, droogy," I prompted, drawing my blade - common starting gear, but I thought I'd note that I chose a rapier and dagger for peak precision, which is what I liked - and as Brickman or Dense readied his shield and lance, I felt a fuzzy feeling, and as if there were another blink, we all ended up in what appeared to be a town square of sorts. Looking around, I saw that everyone else was gradually being respawned here as well. "Later," I suggested so as to not cause a scene.

"Yes, we'll call this unfinished business for later," Dense said to me. "And for future reference, Alex, my name is Peter."

What occurred next was a shock to us all. Like it was our Divine Creator himself greeting us in a red hood, a being originating from red fluid through cracks in the skybox.

The floating hooded man with the booming voice introduced himself as Kayaba Akihiko, and told us there was no way to log out of the game. In addition to this, death was permanent and a very real threat, which made my hairs stand on end. Never before had I felt less safe; and to think, this was all inside a video game.

Commotion. Mayhem. All but order broke loose as everyone scrambled off or stayed put, unable to move due to pure fear. And as I looked around I noticed something else. People's appearances were changing, and as I looked at my beloved friends and partners, whose avatars were previously almost unrecognisable, they were the same old droogs I knew my whole life.

There was me, that is Alexander, and my three droogs, Fuego, Harbinger and Brickman, and we stood in the town square making up our minds what to do with our precious time. The only thing I could decide was farm for experience; then we may stand a chance.

"Out out out out!"


	2. Chapter 2

2

Floor one, the first floor. Not what I would've considered a challenge, not for experience grinding anyway. Fuego would slash with his broadsword, Harbinger trying his best with his claymore - to quote, "why is this so heavy, it's a bigger sword!" - Brickman would be the one to push whenever there were large enemy waves, choosing to be the tank in our group, and I would often swish with my flexible rapier, making only small wounds, but making up for it in additional bleeding damage. We all knew our stuff about MMO's; even Peter, whom I hesitated to call capable at all on previous occasions. Dense, that is Peter was not at all dense, I reflected, before scolding myself. No Alex, I would think to myself, he already has an archetype, we shan't subvert expectation so soon, Alex boy.

There was pitiful bounty for our hacking-slashing of hostile critters - well, the loot was fine, but the experience points were scarce amongst us - luckily the points spread equally for any players that assisted to slay the beast, as well as extra for those who landed the killing blow.

On one of these farming quests on evening one I remember I happened to see a player with black hair and blue common armour, far, far away. He was just running. Running, and occasionally running past beasts with his sword forward, killing them with a single blow. This being the first evening, mind, I looked to my other friends, who also stared in disbelief. After a knowing look was exchanged between us, we all nodded, with an equally knowing mutter of such words as "hacks" or "cheat codes, am I right?".

I also noticed upon second inspection that a bit closer to us, there stood another player, just watching. He had brown, shoulder-length hair, and using detection, I looked closer at his gamer tag. "Charlie", it read. I didn't like this guy one bit. I could tell just from looking at him, he was surely some self-insert prick written by an eighth-grader with too much time on his hands that just discovered Japanese cartoons. Mayhaps just a cynical first impression made by just a single glance, I shrugged off this notion. He would soon be out of sight, out of mind. I decided not to bring this up with my fellow droogs, just for this reason.

We, a few months later, found a solution to this experience deficiency. A hooded fellow offered some advice in exchange for some of our col - money that is, and this time it's true. He told us we could form what is a guild, where a group of people could be a team with all that official niceness. With this title, we would - instead of earning set eckspee, as we would call it, divided amongst ourselves - earn the whole lot for each of us. Between us, that was four times the regular haul of eckspee, as Brickman told us before we could get it in. He was making Your Humble Narrator real hard to be belittling towards him. Additionally, we were told guilds could name themselves, which I fancied real horrorshow.

"Alright," began Harbinger, "now for a name. Any suggestions?"

Three dull expressions faced towards me, as if to predict I would suggest something referential to a certain book I've been slaughtering for these past few ages. Noticing these glares of disdain, I decided not to pick this battle. "What?" I asked all like innocent, "I wasn't gonna say anything," I lied completely and utterly.

"Well…" Fuego said slowly as if wary of an interruption, "What about… the Moonlit Black Cats?" he asked, before typing it into the prompter. "Oh, it's already taken. Any others?"

Brickman scratched his neck in thought, before saying "Maybe if we wait a few days it will open up? I like that name."

"No, there's a real slim chance of that happening, within days, no less." Fuego reasoned, and our Divine Creator gave a smug grin behind his keyboard, understanding the irony of how wrong that assumption was. "What, will they all just keel over in a dungeon after stumbling upon an obvious trap one day?" Our Divine Creator was feeling extra intrusive today.

"I get it," Brickman grunted. "Dumb idea. How about we call ourselves the… Hellhounds?"

This sent another chill up my spine. "Very nice," I complimented. "I like it; Ludovico's Hellhounds-"

"No!" yelled everybody towards me.

"Christ, Alex," Fuego rolled his eyes. "You read one good book, and suddenly it's again and again with the same old shit."

"God," Harbinger continued, "this guild doesn't even exist yet, and I still want to kick you from it."

"Er, sorry brothers," I reply. "Anywho, we should be getting to an inn or something. This is around the time all those bad groups band up." I had to bite my tongue to avoid drawing parallels to the Korova Milk Bar, but I'm sure they knew I was thinking it.

"Agreed," said Brickman. "It says in my map that there's one on the other side of this town."

"Well then, let's go," Harbinger said, and we all left real quickly.

I still feel contempt knowing that we probably ruined that info-broker's mood for the night, as we forgot to pay him.

In the in-door of the inn in which we were staying, there stood a group of players blocking the door, and so we were able to determine that there were many people checking in at this exact time. An accidental nudge caused a tall figure to look back at us, or rather Your Humble Narrator, as it was I who wasn't paying attention to where he was walking. As I looked at this figure I stood about equal height to, I noticed his hair looked familiar, like I'd seen it blowing behind him one time while he was killing a beast... or something like that, I didn't quite recall. "My apologies, I should be more careful next time," I said to this guy, looking him sincerely in the metallic silver eyes. Seriously, what's up with those grey eyes is what I was thinking.

"Do not worry, please be careful next time." He replied, in a voice that sounded like his own, but strangely modified. "I do not want you to be involved in any trouble."

I gave a somewhat odd look, as I considered this to be oddly intimate for just pleasantries between strangers. "Have we met before, by any chance?"

He returned an odd look. "What? No, I do not believe that I have met so far. Why do you ask?"

Suddenly I understood what was going on. This whole game was of course on an international server, so to accommodate for all, language was translated to the beholder as it was spoken. Revolutionary technology, I considered it to be, but did Google really have to volunteer to provide such an engine? "Oh, no reason, no reason. Thank's for your understanding, er..." I looked up at his gamer tag "...Kirito." A Japanese player, I suppose.

With a modest flourish of his black cloak, which was the heighth of overpowered fashion, he said "Yes, that is my name. I am happy to meet you… Alexander." He glanced up at my own name. Then a thought occurred.

"Say, Kirito," I began, taking a chance. "You don't happen to be affiliated with any guilds, do you? Because we may be recruiting," I murmured with a wink and a nudge.

This guy named Kirito gave a light chuckle. "Thank you for the offer, but I am already in the guild. Moonlight black cat."

The way the sentence was phrased was complete garbage, but that wasn't his fault, I put the blame for that one on Google-sensei, but I was able to grasp what he meant. He just so happened to be one of the Moonlit Black Cats. Now how about that coincidence. "Hey, cool name," I commented. "You don't plan on disbanding any time soon so we can take that name, huh?" I had a good laugh at this, to make it clear I was joking, or at least make one thing about my sentence clear through that shitty translate system.

Another laugh came from Kirito, although I could tell he didn't quite understand. "No, I made an appointment with other guild members that I would not let her go asigh."

Yeah, I had decided this engine wasn't working, and that "asigh" isn't a real word, but I tried again. "Can you phrase that different?" I used very simple English so I may be properly translated.

He nodded and said "I promised that someone would not die." A smaller looking girl turned around to look at me, and smiled politely. That looked like the smile of a character that would die in a short amount of time in order to make people feel things.

Looking at her, I didn't mention this grim realisation. "Right then," I said squeamishly. "Good luck with that…"

They both just turned back around in the line. Fuego tapped me on the shoulder, startling me more than I'd like to admit. "Hey Alex, what was that about?"

My face was pale. "Nothing, shut up."


End file.
